


Moonlight

by lildemonlili



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 10:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16473902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lildemonlili/pseuds/lildemonlili
Summary: There’s a girl in a club, and then she’s gone. Except Momo can’t stop thinking about her. Can’t stop looking for her.





	Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Mara!!

Momo gasps.

Music presses against her eardrums and the flashing lights force their way through closed lids. The lips on hers are eager, and fingers dig into her back. Momo returns her kiss eagerly, feeling tongue and teeth that sends sparks through her, and she tugs at the girl’s hips. Wants more. Wants all of what the girl is offering her, even if she’s not even sure how she got there. Just loses herself on the dance floor. Only feels the girl.

 

She’s gone before the DJ changes to the next song, and Momo looks around the dancefloor. But there is no trace of the girl, of the red dress. There’s just a blur of bodies and lights and Momo’s alone in the crowd. The song pressing on her eardrums tells her a story about love, and the prickling sensation on her swollen lips promises she might feel it someday.

Another girl is in her arm in seconds, but Momo barely notices. Can still taste the other girl on her tongue and just wants more.

But she never got her name. Never got her number. Barely heard her voice. Just saw the sparkle in her eyes. Felt the girl’s body move under her hands. Counted the moles on her face in the flashing lights and marked the slope of her lip before the smaller girl had leaned in.

“Wanna get out of here?” The girl in her arms whispers in her ear. Momo shakes her head. Lets go of her hips. Can’t get them to fit in her palms. Instead, Momo leaves the dance floor and the girl. Walks over to the club, sitting down on her seat and orders another drink. Looks for red in the darkness, but there’s nothing but confusion and unfamiliarity.

“She was hot.” the girl next to her notes, angling the beer at her. Jeongyeon.

“Who?” Momo asks as the bartender places a beer in front of her. Momo takes it and swigs from it.

“The one who had her tongue down your throat.” Jeongyeon rolls her eyes, turning to face Momo.

“Oh… Yeah she was.” Momo doesn’t object. Even if hot wasn’t the word she would’ve chosen. It didn’t cover, not even close. “Did you happen to see where she went?”

“What? No I wasn’t watching that close.” Jeongyeon notes dryly. “I’m surprised she didn’t drag you off, she looked like she was going to jump you right there.”

“Beats me.” Momo takes a long drink of her beer to bury the feelings; the thoughts. That she would’ve gone with her if she had, not just tonight but every night. A complete stranger.

 

She just wasn’t fast enough.

 

…

 

A fizzing sensation runs down Momo’s throat as she takes a deep swig of the bottle, scanning the crowd.

“Still nothing?” The bartender asks. Momo shakes her head with a sigh. Looks around at the purple-haired girl, hair in a bun and skin so light that it shines in the flashing lights. It’s saturday and Momo is back at the club, this time without Jeongyeon. Just in case the girl is here.

“You said she has moles?” the bartender asks over the loud music, gesturing at her own face. Momo nods and pokes at her own skin where the girl’s moles were. “Five almost center down her face.”

“Okay, yeah no I haven’t seen her. Only this one,” the bartender pokes at her chin. “But none of the others.”

“No the one on her nose,” Momo points at the left side of her own nose, “is the clearest.”

“Sorry love, I haven’t seen her then, but I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Will you tell her Momo is looking for her?”

“Momo? Sure.” the bartender nods and writes the name on the back of a receipt, showing it to Momo. She nods and walks away with her beer, scanning the crowd.

 

The girl doesn’t show that night. Neither is she anywhere on the streets on sunday or in any of the public campus places on monday. Still Momo looks. Looks at the faces around herself for the first time ever, noticing people instead of just being stuck in her own world.

She’s always been told that she’s aloof, but honestly, there’s just always so much going on inside Momo’s head that it’s often hard to remember to look focused. It’s just not her natural look to seem present. But now? Now her head is making her see all these faces, noticing the shape of a chin or the height of a cheek bone, the shape of an eye.

Even at work, as Momo distractedly scans the items on the currier band, she’s still looking. Doesn’t use her breaks between customers, to snack and zone out like she usually does, but instead watches the other lanes, watches every single passing face for anything recognizable.

 

“Two bags today?” Jihyo asks as Momo walks into the break room, a bag of snacks in one hand and the other combing through her black hair, fixing the bangs as she flops onto one of the cheap chairs.

“What?” Momo asks with a frown as she opens the bag, finally feeding her growling stomach.

“I mean did you buy another bag?” Jihyo elaborates, sucking at the straw of her juice box. Then opens her lunch box and takes a bite of the sandwich inside.

“No this is still the one I brought this morning.” Momo clarifies. “I forgot to eat.”

“You- are you sick?” Jihyo gapes, reaching over to hold a hand to Momo’s forehead.

“No, I’m good I’m just… I’m looking for someone?” Momo runs her fingertips along the line of her own jaw and over her lip. Can still feel the eager lips of the girl if she closes her eyes.

“Who?” Jihyo asks.

“Uh, A girl I met down at Chelli’s on friday.” Momo grabs another snack, but doesn’t eat it. Just twirls it between her fingers, staring at it.

“The one you made out with?” Jihyo asks, making Momo’s eyes snap up to meet hers.

“How-”

“Jeongyeon told me,” Jihyo shrugs, “says you were super lost over some girl in a red dress who played tonsil tag with you.”

“Y-yeah.” Momo blushes and eats the snack. Then another. Feels Jihyo’s eyes on her and the words that want out, but doesn’t want to say them. It sounds so stupid, and the last thing she wants is for someone to think she’s stupid. Especially her friends. But she can’t hold them in.

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love at first kiss?”

Jihyo just looks at her and smiles. Shakes her head in disbelief and tilts her head.

“You’ve really got it bad.”

 

…

 

Momo groans. Regrets the decision the minute she steps inside, the bass bumping in her blood and the flashing lights disorienting her. It’s friday and she’s barely gotten off work, but she’s back at Chelli’s and her eyes look through the crowd. Nothing. But as she bites down on her lip at the uncomfortable tug in her stomach, she notices purple hair and bright skin, and a hope buds in her heart.

 

“Hey, you’re back!” the purple haired bartender smiles wide as Momo flops down on the chair and leans on her arms.

“I’m back.” Momo nods.

“Still looking for your girl?” the bartender asks, handing Momo a beer. Momo sighs thankfully and swigs from it. It’s sour but the first always is. She drinks it anyways. Fast. In one go. Has had a shitty day at work and her gut tells her she’s not going to find the girl tonight.

“H-have you seen her?” Momo asks nervously. Wishes the alcohol would work faster.

“Sorry, no.” the bartender sends Momo an apologetic look.

“Yeah I hadn’t expected it honestly. I mean it’s ridiculous. I’m never going to see her again.” Momo rolls her eyes at herself as the bartender hands her another beer.

“You might.” the bartender shrugs. “Cheer up, Momo. If nothing else there’ll be more girls.”

“There have been plenty of girls. Just not anyone like her.” Momo sighs. It’s absolutely pathetic that she’s even here, but her feet carried her without her will. And all she can do is hope.

“You’re really lost huh?” the bartender chuckles compassionately, reaching over to ruffle Momo’s hair. Momo frowns at her but the girl has turned her back. Momo sighs and turns on her chair, drinking from her beer as she stars scanning the crowd.

A flash of red catches her attention, and she sits up straight. It’s so unlikely that she’s wearing the same dress, but Momo can’t help but let the red fabric give her hope. Intensely, she stares into the dancefloor, fixated on the red fabric.

The next moment it’s evident that the red dress is short and tight, belonging to a girl with black hair reaching down to her collar bones and heart-shaped lips. Not the right girl. Even if she catches Momo’s eyes and smirks. Momo looks away. Sighs and searches the face of the girl walking past her.

 

Not the right girl.

 

…

 

As the sun sets on saturday, Momo is absolutely sure that she’s gone mad. It’s dumb and she shouldn’t do it. Definitely should not go down to Chelli’s one more time. She can’t just waste her entire life just looking for this one girl. It’s downright insane. So of course it takes no more than one text from Jeongyeon asking if she’s down to dance, for Momo to change into one of her go-to black dresses and head out the door.

 

Momo bites her lip at the sight of the purple haired bartender. Doesn’t want the others to know she was here yesterday as well, or that she asked the bartender to keep an eye out for the girl. But the bartender doesn’t say anything. Just winks at Momo and opens three beers, placing them on the counter.

While Momo shyly looks around the room - just a habit, Jihyo entertains with a story of an extraordinarily rude customer, and Jeongyeon reacts in appropriate offence.

“Hey Momo.” the bartender’s voice is quiet and her approach discreet. Momo sends her friends a glance before looking at the bartender.

Momo frowns.

The bartender smiles mischievously, then leans closer. “She’s here.”

 

Momo’s heart stops. Just for a second. She can feel how her eyes widen and her cheeks flush at the bartender’s words, and she almost knocks their foreheads together, whipping around to face the room. Her heart picks up. Comes alive with a thunderous power, beating hard somewhere in her throat. She can’t see her immediately. Searches every face.

Her stomach reacts before her brain notices, curling her insides as a flash of flowy red material catches her attention. She knows it this time. That it’s right. It’s in the movements of  hips and the stretch of her slender arms. It looks almost like she’s floating, dancing alone, moving in waves in whatever space she can create around her on the crowded dance floor. It’s mesmerizing to watch.

But that’s all Momo does. Can’t get herself to move even if she tries. She’s horribly stuck between logic and lust, and just sits there, watching a girl lost in a dance. Still, her hands twitch as if they’re eager to hold her, and she almost gets up, several times.

“That her?” Jihyo’s breath hits Momo’s ear and she jolts. Looks around Jihyo for a split second and then back at the girl, terrified of losing her out of sight.

Momo nods, following the girl’s movements intensely. “That’s her.”

“Shit, get in there Momo.” Jeongyeon leans over Jihyo, a hand on the younger girl’s thigh for support.

“I can’t just- what am I even going to say?” Momo shakes her head.

“Doesn’t matter, just go!” Jeongyeon nudges Momo hard enough that she loses her balance and avoids falling only by the reflex of a foot.

With a scowl she looks at Jeongyeon.

“I don’t know what to say, I can’t just-”

“Go!”

“No it’s- it’s going to be awkward and-” Momo wants to run. It was really the worst idea she ever had, coming here tonight.

One thing was longing to feel the girl again, another being faced the reality that she couldn’t get herself to do so when offered the opportunity.

“Momo.”

Momo whines at Jeongyeon’s voice trying to call her to reason. It’s already embarrassing enough that she’s spent so long looking for this girl and now can’t get herself to do anything and she just wants to go. Wants to hold the girl close but never see her again. Because she’s just a memory of every cowarded piece of Momo’s soul.

“Can we just-”

 

“Hi.”

 

Momo turns, and her breath hitches. She’s right there; right in front of Momo. With lipstick to match the flowy dress, the exact one she wore a week ago. Her dark brown hair is in a ponytail and her eyes lock Momo’s effectively.

“H-hi.” Momo says, her voice catching in her throat. She clears it.

“Dance with me?” The girl reaches out; takes Momo’s hand. And it feels like being carried home. The question doesn’t even need an answer, but Momo nods anyway. She just pulls Momo along, the bass pumping against Momo’s eardrums and the girl’s hand around her fingers. They disappear in the crowd of moving bodies, and Momo loses the sense of self. Just feels the girl’s hips under her hands, and the girl’s hands on her neck. Lets the music and the girl’s eyes take over every inch of her existence, dancing with her and the rhythm as if they’ve always done it.

 

…

 

In all her years dancing she’s never felt this. Has never had a partner she could read so instinctively, a partner whose thoughts seemed to be completely synchronized with her own, the pair moving in the flashing lights like a single organism, organic and free, in a time and space that seems slower than reality and further from it.

With every step they seem to move closer until she’s flush against Momo, and it feels like a dejavu. They circle each other, moving through the crowd, through the darkness and the music in what feels like an eternity in a moment. Freedom in palpable form. Exactly what Momo has somehow searched for her entire life. In every stretch of an arm and every step. Every hour looking at her own body in the mirror as she danced, culminating in this dance. This night. And she never wants it to end. Just doesn’t know how to say it. Has lost her voice, her sense of smell and taste and even partially her vision. Relies purely on her balance and the tactical senses, on the limited vision of the girl’s face so close to her own. Of the smile that spreads as Momo checks if she memorized the slope of her lips right.

Then the girl’s fingers digs into her nape, pulling herself closer, and her lips are on Momo’s.

She’s dreaming. She’s definitely dreaming. Because there’s no way this happens even once, and definitely not twice. But the girl’s lips are so greedy against her own that she has no time to consider the reality of the situation, but merely returns the kiss as eagerly as she can, wrapping her arms around the girl’s waist, just to get her closer.

 

They still dance. Even with their hungry lips and the taste of a tongue - they dance in each other’s arms, and Momo feels weightless. Never wants anything but this dance floor and the girl in her arms. But then the girl’s arms suddenly slide from around Momo’s neck, down her arms, wrapping around Momo’s wrists, and she pulls back.

They stop dancing. Stop moving. The girl just looks at Momo, eyes darting between Momo’s an a tiny smile appears on her face as her gaze falls to Momo’s lips. Then she releases one of Momo’s wrists and wipes her thumb across Momo’s chin. Giggles inaudibly. But Momo can see that it’s a giggle. In the way her nose scrunches and her shoulders hunch just for a second.

Momo grins; can’t help it. It’s instinct.

Then the girl leans in, pressing a kiss to Momo’s cheek before moving around to her ear. And Momo can feel the hot breath in her ear and her hand once more around Momo’s neck.

“Dance with me.”

Momo nods instinctually. Reaches for the girl’s waist again with her free hand, but the fingers around the other arm’s wrist grasp harder and Momo hesitates. With the bass in her ears she finds the girl’s eyes in the darkness and tries to read the expression in them.

 

The girl turns around immediately.

 

It’s a split second of panic, before the hand around Momo’s wrist tugs. The girl is asking Momo to come along. Doesn’t drag her. Just tugs. And Momo follows. Follows the girl through the crowded dance floor towards the wardrobe and soars when the girl’s fingers slips from her wrist into the spaces between Momo’s. Honestly she hasn’t got a clue what’s going on, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the breeze that pours in from the the entrance to club as the girl draws a number out from her bra and shows it to the guy at the wardrobe.

“Do you have anything in here?”

“Nope.” Momo says, clapping a hand over her own chest, the phone safely stored in her bra. Had she had a better and bigger phone she might not have done it, but this size just fit without being seen, and with a credit card inside it was all she needed. The girl chuckles, and this time Momo can just hear it. It makes her breathing a little lighter and a little harder all at the same time.

“Thank you.” the girl says as the guy from the wardrobe hands her a purse and a thin coat. Momo didn’t bring one. This late in june she figured the twenty minutes walk back home wouldn’t be enough to get her cold. For a moment Momo considers stopping the girl, just to ask what they’re doing. Just to get a little clarity. But a much bigger part finds that she doesn’t need to know. She just needs the girl to keep holding her hand like she is, and maybe another dance.

 

Maybe every dance.

 

…

 

Never in her wildest dreams did Momo imagine that those three words and the tug of a hand would change her life, but as they walk along the streets under the stars, she’s completely aware that her life will never be the same. That she’s come across magic in the most palpable form.

The girl’s steps are quick and long, and Momo finds herself adjusting her own to match, returning the excited grin as the girl finds her eyes. Feels the upwards tug on her hand and raises it. The girl loosens their grasp to barely a hold and twirls under Momo’s hand with a giggle that makes the stars shine brighter. Makes Momo crazy.

Then a hand is on Momo’s shoulder for what Momo thinks is support, but the next the girl is kissing her for all she’s worth, in the middle of the sidewalk, and Momo has to take a few steps back at the force. Feels her heart beating out of her chest and the girl’s fingers grasping at her waist. It’s sudden and addictive. A change in pace that Momo’s body responds to before her brain fully grasps the reality.

For a moment Momo is sure that they’re back in the club, but it’s not the bass pressing on her eardrums; it’s her pulse and the blood rushing through her, set on fire by the frame in her arms and the teeth scraping over her lip.

 

The beat changes again and this time Momo reads it immediately. The girl reaches back, arms around Momo’s neck and their foreheads together, a gasp hitting Momo’s lips. The girl is out of breath and grinning, but they don’t slow down. Just take a step in rhythm to the racing hearts. The weightlessness is back, and Momo recognizes every detail of the complexity between them as if it’s what she’s been born to do; read this girl.

“Where to?” the girl asks.

“Wherever you want.” Momo says breathlessly.

The girl spins almost out of reach and then impossibly close, her lips brushing carelessly over Momo’s before she pulls Momo in a new rhythm, crossing the river at the old bridge, almost at the end of the downtown district, away from the noise of the city and the people. Not that Momo has a single clue if there’s noise. Or people. She’s blind to anything but the girl. Counts her moles to make sure it’s the same one. To make sure it’s the same dream, she’s still in. Doesn’t try to wake herself, in fear that the voice inside her head is right. The voice that tells her none of this is real.

But the girl makes her forget. Makes her wonderfully oblivious to any form of reality threatening to break through.

 

And so, instead of feeling the world around her, she half dances, half runs across the bridge with the girl in her arms, not a single care in the world. Lets the girl take over every single sense and allows the night to take them away to whatever it wants to show.

 

Momo doesn’t need to know what it is.

Just needs to give in to anything.

 

…

 

The lights are too bright and the puff of air too hot as they step through the doors to the little convenience shop. The girl pulls Momo along, an expression of the utmost focus on her face and no explanation given. She’s not really sure how they got her. The girl had just stopped mid-kiss somewhere in a neighborhood Momo didn’t know, and started running. Had almost let go of Momo’s hand, but instinct had made Momo clasp on tight and run along with her. And now they’re here and the girl looks radiant in the red flowy dress, scanning the shelves until she crouches in front of the shelf with chips and crackers. With an almost supernatural elegance her nimble fingers trace over the products. Then looks up at Momo.

“Any preferences?”

Momo blinks and crouches, careful not to let the dress creep up too much.

“I don’t know, I like all of them.” Momo says quietly.

“Salt and vinegar?” the girl pulls at the corner of a bag of chips.

Momo nods, though she’s not really sure what the taste is. She normally goes for barbeque. There’s a secret part of her that’s relieved that the girl didn’t choose chili flavor.

“What about candy?” the girl asks, looking around before getting back on her feet.

“Sure?” Momo gets up as well, looking at the selection without really noticing anything.

The girl reaches for a pack of sour watermelon candy.

“I-” Momo’s voice catches in her own throat.

“Hm?” the girl asks, hand on the pack.

“Maybe another type of candy? I-I don’t really like watermelon.”

“Oh, sure!” the girl says, and to Momo’s surprise she seems almost uplifted at this. “Which?”

Momo frowns and actually looks at the colorful packs. The girl’s hand makes her hand skip a beat and she reaches for a pack of Haribo peaches. The girl nods approvingly and leans in, pressing her lips to Momo’s pulse point, shivers working down Momo’s spine. Warmth spreads through Momo and she checks that they’re alone, but it’s not needed. The girl has already drawn back with a grin.

“Wine or beer? Or something stronger?” the girl asks.

Momo shrugs. Can’t really judge if adding alcohol would make the night better or worse, but the girl didn’t give a choice for no alcohol, and if that’s what she wants then Momo is okay with that. Maybe it would even be fun, add to the weightlessness. The beer she drank earlier is definitely far out of her system.

“Wine?”

Momo nods. Wine does seem fitting. The girl’s hand grabs tighter around Momo’s and she hands Momo the bag of chips as they head through the store to the little alcohol selection. Momo goes along with the girl’s first selection.

 

The girl pays cash.

 

…

 

You’d think they would stop dancing as they sit down on a bench a few minutes walk from the convenience store, looking over Han river. But they don’t. The girl opens the bottle of wine and sips from it, while Momo opens the chips.

“Good.” the girl sighs as she sinks the wine, looking at Momo.

“Yeah?”

“Taste it.” the girl shrugs, and Momo reaches for the bottle. But the girl pulls it out of reach and Momo frowns. Then sees the darkness in the girl’s eyes and forgets how to breathe. It’s ridiculous how something like this can still take her breath away. She’s long lost count of how many times she’s felt the girl’s lips against her own tonight.

Slowly Momo leans in, the girl remaining passive, even as Momo can feel the girl’s slightly rapid breath on her lips. She knows she’s allowed to. Knows the girl wants Momo to kiss her. Still she can’t help but drag out the moment, nosing the girl before finally catching the girl’s upper lip, tasting the wine on her lips and feeling the smile spreading. Momo shuffles slightly to get a better angle, but the girl pulls back and takes another drink. Stares at Momo with such intensity that Momo forgets the open bag of chips in her lap and drops it onto the floor in an attempt to kiss the girl again.

The laughter that bubbles from the girl’s lips makes Momo’s mind go blank. It fills the night and reveals a gummy grin. Mesmerizing. It’s not until the girl raises her eyebrows at Momo that she remembers the bag. With a chuckle Momo draws her eyes from the girl bends down to pick up the bag. But of all things that could’ve made her phone fall out tonight, it’s this moment. This angle where the phone drops, its fall only pillowed by the chips that crack underneath it. Momo curses, but the girl just holds out a hand.

“I’ll keep it in my purse.” the girl says. Momo nods and hands it to her. Without a single hesitation. Then she picks up the bag, and sends the chips on the ground a guilty look. A waste of food. But luckily not too much was dropped on the ground and she rustles the bag. Takes one and offers the bag to the girl.

“Thank you.” there’s a smile in the girl’s voice, and she offers the wine bottle to the girl. Momo takes it and drinks.

It tastes better on the girl’s lips.

 

…

 

Maybe in another world, Momo would have foreseen that going to look for a girl could maybe result in the need for a jacket. But it most definitely wasn’t this world. And while Momo is generally a warm girl, this is more than she had expected. An hour in the dead of night and the cold was all she can muster before actually starting to shiver. Even the buzz and the sugar from the peaches can prevent the shudder that runs through her body.

“You cold?” the girl asks.

Momo nods and rubs her arms. Sends the girl an apologetic grin and empties the bottle. The wine does nothing to heat her up, but the mouth that rushes to steal the last droplets from her tongue definitely does.

She’s completely unpredictable and simultaneously the easiest person to read, the girl whose lips attack Momo’s, heating her up better than any sun. The girl whose cold fingers travel down Momo’s arms and then pulls her up with a firm gaze. They almost knock their heads together. Almost. But in the last second Momo guides the girl back a little, and angles her head. Catches the girl’s lips once more and feels her close. Wraps her arms around the girl’s waist under the thin coat.

“Come.” the girl says against Momo’s lips, a hand travelling down Momo’s spine. Those shivers have nothing to do with the cold. And the warmth spreads effectively through her blood, whether it had been the girl’s purpose or not.

Momo doesn’t ask where. Doesn’t care. Just lets the girl drag her off, away from the bench and back onto the dimly lit streets.

 

…

 

Momo has lost sense of time. Sense of place. Sense of everything but the slightly flowery scent of the girl and the entrancing way she moves, with a lightness and precision that Momo could never hope to match. And as they walk Momo notices the angle of her feet, the straightness of her back and the perfect angle she holds her face in. Ballet? It would explain her amazing dance skills and the strength of her grasp.

Momo doesn’t ask. Just lets the girl take her around a corner, sensing her direction. Further down the street, lights pour out of the windows of a little 24-hour diner. Momo blinks and almost trips, the buzz still in her blood making her hazy, but probably the cold making her tired too. It feels weird. But the hand in hers is safety and faith, and Momo wants more.

 

Just as Momo had expected, the girl pulls Momo into the diner, nodding politely at the tired waiter. Then guides Momo to a booth before letting go of her hand. The girl sits down and scoots in towards the window. For a moment Momo considers sitting opposite her, but there’s a force that Momo can’t really recognize, that makes her take the seat beside her. It seems to please the girl, and Momo feels warmer already. She wants to sit closer, but the waiter approaches before Momo can test her bravery.

“Would you like to see the menu?” the waiter asks monotonously, holding out a slightly bent laminated cardboard menu. Momo takes it, placing it on the table in front of them.

“Thank you.” The girl says, but Momo barely hears. In the exact second the girl had spoken, she had placed a hand on Momo’s bare thigh.

With a shivering breath, Momo looks at the menu. The girl doesn’t move her hand; it just rests there, setting Momo’s skin on fire. Makes Momo’s stomach curl. She can barely read what the menu says, but stealing a glance at the girl she merely finds her eyes darting across the menu and the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of her lips. It takes everything Momo has to shift in her seat, moving closer. The girl’s hand moved automatically, but she doesn’t say anything. But the thumb that brushes back and forth just once makes Momo know that it was the right thing. She just doesn’t know how to speak. Can’t even form a sentence in her own mind, so how could she be expected to talk? The girl does something to Momo. Makes her mind go blank and drives her crazy. Makes her want the to surrender and disappear in whatever rabbit hole the girl drags them down.

“Have you decided what you want?” the girl asks, a small tap to Momo’s thigh bringing her back to reality.

“I- uh. J-just pancakes?” Momo doesn’t even know if they have pancakes, but it’s the most likely guess.

The girl nods, and her thumb brushes over Momo’s skin again. “Coffee?”

“I don’t-” Momo clears her throat. “I don’t drink coffee. Hot chocolate?”

The girl nods and shuffles. Moves closer until Momo can feel the fabric of the red dress against the side of her thigh. A single wave of the girl’s arm calls the waiter over, and she orders pancakes for both, hot chocolate for momo and coffee for herself.

“Are you still cold?” the girl asks quietly, the second the waiter has turned his back on them. The hand on Momo’s thigh moves. Just a little higher. Would barely be noticeable if it wasn’t for the fingers that spread only to scratch gently against Momo’s skin. Momo knows the shudder is obvious but she can’t help it. Feels the way her heart threatens to implode, and finally turns to find the girl’s eyes. They’re dark, and Momo swallows hard. Knows instinctively what the next move is. But only the next move.

“W-what happens if I say yes?” Momo breathes.

The girl’s smile grows. Then her hand on Momo’s moves. Noticeably this time. With eyes still locking Momo’s, the girl’s hand moves up until the palm meets the hem of Momo’s dress, and then inwards. Her fingertips skirt over Momo’s inner thigh and then squeeze. Momo forgets how to breath, ribs hurting with the force of her heartbeat.

“Still cold?” the girl asks again. Then Momo forgets her own name; goes blind. The hand on her thigh moves up effortlessly until the girl’s fingers stroke over Momo’s underwear.

 

“Yes.” Momo gasps.

 

…

 

Momo is barely inside the door to the bathroom, before the girl’s hands push her hips back against it, locking the door behind them effortlessly. Her lips are greedy, and steal the air from Momo’s lungs, and Momo can do nothing but try to hold on. Wraps her arms around the girl’s neck and feels the wonderful pressure of the girl’s body pressing her firmly against the door. It’s intoxicating and dizzying, the world spinning too fast and the two of them moving in slow motion. Two hearts out of sync with the rest of the world, beating only for each other. Momo’s pulse beats through every vane and she digs her fingers into the girl’s shoulder to keep steady as a thigh pushes her own apart. Presses against her and frees the moan that’s been building in Momo’s throat. The girl swallows it greedily. Takes everything and anything she wants, and Momo only wishes she had more to give.

“I-” Momo gasps in the split second between two kisses.

“Sh…” the girl hums against Momo’s lips. “Let me warm you.”

“But-” Momo isn’t sure what she wants to say. Her brain and body disconnect.

“Do you want to stop?” the girl asks, an inch of air between them.

Momo looks at her. Sees an unexpected softness in the hooded eyes. “No.”

A smile spreads on the girl’s lips and the moves around to Momo’s ear. Kisses the shell of her ear and whispers.

 

“Then shut up and dance with me.”

 

Momo loses herself in the bathroom, the girl’s body against her and her hand trailing up Momo’s thigh, lifting the black fabric until it rests in folds above her hips. The cold air has no power over her skin. There blood boiling in her veins shield her and she closes her eyes with a groan as the girl sucks on her neck, right over her pulse point.

There’s no warning, no caution. Just thumbs in the strings of Momo’s underwear and the soft tickling as they slide down her legs. She’s only allowed a second to step out of the underwear. Then a hand replaces the lace and Momo’s back arches, head against the door and a soft hum in her ear. The fingers slip easily through Momo’s folds, but Momo finds that it doesn’t embarrass her the slightest, how obvious it is. Instead she bucks into the hand, making sure the girl knows exactly how much Momo wants her. How much she has wanted her since the first time they ended up on that dance floor. How much she wants every dance from now, to be with her.

“Still cold?” the girl whispers, her teeth tugging at Momo’s earlobe.

“Yes.” Momo groans. The girl’s breathy chuckle sends sparks through Momo and the fingers move up to find Momo’s clit, circling it. Momo moans. Tugs her lip between her teeth to lower the volume and whines. Her legs shake slightly and she grasps harder around the girl’s shoulders in an attempt to keep steady while allowing the girl more space to work.

“Here.” the girl mutters, and with her fingers still running over Momo’s clit, the other hand finds Momo’s thigh, lifting it, wrapping it around the girl’s waist. Momo tugs the girl impossibly closer and shifts to let her carry more of Momo’s weight. The girl utilizes the space immediately, sliding two fingers effortlessly into Momo.

“ _Fuck._ ” Momo gasps, rolling her hips into the girl’s hand.

“Yeah?” the smirk is audible in the girl’s voice.

Momo nods, her voice catching in her throat before the plea can even form on her tongue.

 

Like everything else tonight, it’s a dance. An effortless rhythm, as the girl pumps into Momo, her lips on Momo’s neck. But at a curl of the girl’s fingers Momo’s voice grows and the girl kisses her hard, muffling the moan.

“He’ll hear.” The girl mutters, and Momo nods. Tugs her teeth between her lip, but the girl just shakes her head once, the long brown ponytail whipping around to one side, and tilts her head. Momo nods hazedly. Closes her eyes and buries her face in the girl’s neck to muffle the sound. And it’s necessary. Almost as if to test it, the girl curls her fingers inside Momo and Momo feels the tension build to an almost unbearable level as she feels the girl’s skin under her lips. It takes everything in her to even form a single _please_ , but once it’s out, the rest tumble after it, gasping for more. The girl shifts, and pushes Momo further into the door. Uses a thigh to push harder into Momo, not fast, but knuckle deep and with a rhythm that drives Momo crazy.

“C-close.” Momo pants into the girl’s skin. “So close.”

The girl hums. Presses her palm flat against Momo’s clit and curls her fingers. Momo’s curse fills the room and the girl shushes her. But Momo can’t help it. It’s like she’s at the cliff and she’s trying to jump, but she can’t. No matter how much she bucks into the girl’s hand, she’s not falling. So Momo opens her eyes. Just a bit. Just enough to see the baby hairs at the girl’s nape and the simple silver earring. Leans back against the door and finds the girl’s eyes.

It’s like she senses it, because she leans up, pressing her forehead against Momo’s, eyes darting between Momo’s.

“Come for me.” the girl says quietly. Then swallows Momo’s moan as she does. With her skin on fire, held up only by the girl, Momo’s back arches and her muscles shut tight around the girl’s fingers. There’s no air to breathe, no ground to stand on, no reality except the girl. And she’s still going. Still moving her fingers inside Momo, dragging the orgasm out for what seems like an eternity in a moment. Swallows every gasp and moan that Momo can’t contain and holds her safe.

 

Safe.

 

…

 

Pancakes really do taste better when you’re warm, Momo finds. The hot chocolate might only be lukewarm but the pancakes? They change her world. Or maybe it’s the hand casually resting on the inside of her thigh that’s changing it. She’s not sure. But they taste amazing.

The girl takes a mouthful of pancake and hums. Momo steals a glance. Feels bubbles in her stomach and gives a little smile.

“Good?” Momo asks.

The girl nods. Grins widely, revealing the gums. It makes Momo want to know every possible way to make her smile like that.

She doesn’t try more.

Instead, as she takes the last bite of her pancakes, her eyes fall on the city outside the diner. Beyond the two of them and the white table. The brown faux leather seats. There’s a change in the hue of the night sky, and Momo realizes it’s morning approaching. The sight brings her back to reality for the first time since the girl had found her in the crowd. And she realizes. That even in reality, in the daylight, she wants the girl.

Momo gets up without really realizing what she’s doing. The girl frowns at her.

“Do you have my phone?” Momo asks.

The girl looks utterly confused, blinks and then digs into the purse, handing Momo her phone. Without explaining anything, Momo takes the phone, walking up to the yawning waiter and hands him the credit card form inside her phone case. Looks back at the girl for a moment and then at the waiter again.

“Should I split the bill?” the waiter asks.

Momo shakes her head. “No I got it. Add your tip to the card, I didn’t bring cash.”

The waiter nods as if he couldn’t care less and takes the credit card. Hands it back to Momo with a receipt.

“Thank you.” Momo says. Then she turns back to the table and holds out her hand.

“What are-”

“Just come.” Momo interrupts, reaching for her hand. “Please?”

The girl nods. Then smiles widely as Momo pulls her up and drags her out of the diner and back into the last remnants of their night. As soon as they get outside, Momo stops. Looks around in the darkness to orient herself. The girl doesn’t ask for an elaboration. Then Momo sees it.

“Come.” Momo says, smiling back at the girl before dragging her along with hurried steps, up the empty streets and slim alleyways, sometimes steep enough for there to be stairs. Somewhere right as the dark shifts to allow the break of orange light on the horizon the girl’s fingers twine with Momo’s. Their worlds collide, in perfect balance. Dawn.

 

…

 

They reach a park at the top of the hill just in time. The sky is a a brilliant blue, but the horizon lights in peach and orange and yellow behind a brush of clouds, and they settle at the root of a tree, where the grass doesn’t reach. The dew is heavy always heavy when the night is cold.

“What is this place?” the girl asks.

“No clue. Just a hill.” Momo admits. From what she can see from here, it’s the exact opposite direction of her home.

“Then why here?” the girl asks.

“You see those clouds?” Momo points at the dawn over the harbor.

The girl nods.

“They’re called cumulus humilis.” Momo explains. “They’re usually stratocumulus or altocumulus. I’d say these are stratocumulus.”

“Which means?” the girl seems lost.

“Which means today is going to be a good day. They’re a promise of good weather.”

“Oh.” the girl just says. Shuffles closer. Momo feels like she’s up there with the clouds.

“I wanted to try this for so long, but I always fall asleep before I get to.” Momo sighs. Releases the girl’s hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders. Feels the girl’s lips softly against her neck. Then her nose nuzzles and Momo squeezes her shoulder.

“Look.” Momo breathes.

The girl shifts her head, the brown hair from the top of the girl’s head tickling Momo’s neck.

 

Sunrise.

 

On a tapestry of gold and blue, the sun rises over the sea, bathing the world in soft warm, promising light. The water, the city, the lawn by their feet and the two girls. Accentuates the promises of Momo’s clouds and the girl’s hand on her arm.

 

“Thank you for everything.” the girl says quietly. “For running away with me. Even if it’s just tonight, it meant a lot. Even if I have to face reality now.”

There are more questions in Momo’s head than she can manage to sort. As if this tiny amount of information set off a branching impulse, reaching every cell in Momo’s brain at once. But it’s not necessary for Momo to ask. The girl tells her. Tells her everything about her messed up parents and her inner battle about whether to quit her place as one of the most prominent ballerinas at the national academy and go for the academic career she’s tempted by. And as the last bit of the sun appears, breaking free of the horizon, she shifts in Momo’s arms and looks up at her.

“Thank you for showing me this, Momo.”

Momo starts despite how calm the girl’s voice is. As far as Momo remembers, the girl had never gotten her name. Just like she had never gotten to know the girl’s name. It just hadn’t been needed. But then a streak of purple on the sky, reminds Momo of a slip of paper and a loud club. The bartender.

“Momo?”

Momo looks down at the girl resting on her chest. “Sorry, I mean, you’re welcome.”

“It felt like I was bound to someone, for the first time in my life. I’ve been free to do whatever I want all my life, but I think- I think I’d rather not be free.”

The girl’s words contradict her actions as she shifts and untangles herself from Momo’s arm, stretching her bare feet onto the wet dew and looks at the rising sun.

Momo looks at her. Wants to reach out and stroke through the brown hair, to study how the sun reflects in it. Wants to wrap up the girl and dance in the wet grass on bare feet. Make her forget the life she’s been running from all night. The sun warms Momo’s heart and lets the hope inside it grow.

 

“Dance with me?”

 

The girl turns her head. There hope in Momo’s heart is reflected in the girl’s eyes, and a soft smile spreads on her lips. Then she nods. Waits for Momo to get to her feet and lets her help the girl to her feet. Holds a hand to the girl’s waist and the other in her hand. Feels the girl’s hand on her arm and the warmth in her eyes.

 

Then, just as Momo is about to take a step, the girl’s expression changes.

“I… I never told you my name, did I?” the girl asks.

“No.” Momo confirms.

“And you never asked.”

Momo shrugs. “I didn’t feel like I needed it.”

“Do you want to know?” a quizzical frown forms on the girl’s face.

Momo hesitates. Leans in and presses her lips to the girl’s, before speaking, her forehead against the girl’s. “Everything. I want to know everything.”

The girl giggles, and the sound bubbles in Momo’s heart as the girl starts their dance. Holds her hand tight.

 

“Mina.”


End file.
